Wanna check my homework?
by Wakao
Summary: TWOshot. In which Ron finally decides to be a man and tell Hermione how he really feels.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't have much to say about this actually. I think that this is about as romantic as I can write without wincing. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Wanna check my homework?**

It was a ferociously sunny day outside, a welcome reprieve from the drafty halls of Hogwarts. The lake shimmered under the steady sun that burned and burned and burned. All around the lake beach mats were laid out and bodies sprawled upon them, resplendent in varying degrees of clothing in various arrays of colors. The whole of Hogwarts' population milled around (except for the ghosts, who drifted lackadaisically), doing, as hot days tend to inspire, absolutely nothing.

To add an interesting fact to this day of nothingness, if you were, say, standing at the top of Gryffindor Tower looking down at the lake, you would conclude that, according to the lake's statistics, the most popular color favored by the female population of Hogwarts would be yellow. It had almost been a tie with blue, but had triumphed by one vote. That one vote happened to be lying quite far away from the crowds, behind the old oak tree, unseen by anyone except someone who happened to be standing at the top of Gryffindor Tower.

"Bloody hell, is that Draco Malfoy?" Ron gasped, almost losing his balance. The chair underneath him shuddered, causing Ron to wave his arms about wildly before his centre of gravity stabilized.

"Alright, Ron?" Harry stuck his head in the dormitory.

"Yeah," Ron said calmly. As calmly as he could manage having seen his arch enemy of seven years dressed in a yellow bathing suit and not much else. Perhaps clawing his eyes out would erase the disturbing image.

"You sure? Anyway, Hermione's waiting for you downstairs. We're off to the library."

Ron groaned, his mind temporarily distracted from Malfoy's taste in bathing suits to face the--possibly scarier--prospect of Homework. In the Library. With Hermione. Ron felt his ears flush red. He wiped his sweaty palms on his cloak (no easy feat considering he was balancing on a chair with one leg, wobbling occasionally) and took a deep breath. He would not think about Hermione. He would banish her from his mind (and Malfoy too, if possible). He would-

"Ron, why are you balancing on a chair with one leg and wobbling occasionally?"

Ron fell off the chair. Thankfully, he landed on Harry's bed with a soft thump. He jumped off and spun to face the door. Or rather, the person at the door. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. His hand reached up of its own accord to ruffle his hair. "What are you doing here?"

She gave him one of her looks. "Waiting, Ron, for _you _to get your sluggish ass downstairs!"

Merlin, she looked cute when she was angry.

"Well, uh, you see, I was, uh," Ron hurriedly rearranged his face into one of sheepish remorse. "You see, uh, I left my homework on top of Harry's wardrobe. And, uh, I was trying to get it back."

Hermione stared. "You left your homework on top of Harry's wardrobe." She repeated slowly.

Okay, so it sounded stupid when she said it. Ron didn't care; he found himself drawn powerlessly into her eyes. Chocolate, that's what they were. Twin pools of molten chocolate, depth and feeling and any number of wonderful things found in them. Why hadn't he seen it before?

"You're blind, Ron." Hermione said.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. "What?"

Hermione sighed, rolled her gorgeous eyes. "Look, your homework's right over there. I recognize the untidy scrawl." She pointed at Ron's bed.

"I knew that." Ron said defensively. "Why must you always barge in on my business?"

He hadn't meant it to come out like that, honestly he hadn't. He could have slapped himself.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Five minutes," Hermione said coldly, before stalking briskly out of the room.

Ron sighed and sat heavily on Harry's bed, his face in his hands. He couldn't help it if he was awkward and clumsy. That was just the way he was. But he was done making excuses. He was done having to watch Hermione go on dates with other boys, as she had increasingly since seventh year started. He was done staying up waiting for her only to fall asleep and be awoken by the sound of soft whispers at the portrait hole, her giggles as she waltzed right by him to her dormitory, completely unaware of his existence.

He was tired of being the one who made her cry, not smile. No more, he resolved. No more of being _just _the best friend.

Most of all, he couldn't erase the ripple of hurt in her eyes, caused by his careless words. Words, he decided, mattered a lot to Hermione.

Words could hurt, but they could also help him.

And with that, he grabbed a spare quill and began scribbling furiously on his homework.

Fin.

A/N: Review! I accept anything.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: What can I say, I was inspired. I'm sure you all want to know how it ends. Special thanks to **James n Lily r in LOVE** (can't argue with that, haha) and **its rather fantastic** for reviewing. On with it!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Wanna check my homework? Part Two.**

Ron scuffed his foot against the table leg nervously. It seemed his earlier bravado had failed him now that he was in such close proximity to Hermione. She sat across the table from him, lips set in a grim line, concentrating on her Potions essay. She had ignored him from the time he had run downstairs (barely five minutes late, honestly).

Harry shot him a look of pity from across the table; obviously he thought that Ron was done for. Ron happened to agree with him. But there was more at stake than Harry thought. If Hermione refused to check his homework, not only would he probably get a detention from Snape, but he would lose out on the only girl who made his heart work overtime.

He looked down at the essay he was supposed to be working on, reading the words he had written earlier. He read over it again and again, each time second-guessing himself, until he finally felt like flinging the parchment away. But no, Hermione would be furious at his obvious lack of respect for Homework. Ron sighed heavily, earning a concerned look from Harry and no response whatsoever from Hermione.

On the parchment, in his untidy scrawl, it read:

Possible side-effects of Peroxide Potion and how to counter them

_The peroxide potion is used to change one's appearance, mostly of the hair. Both muggles and wizards use this potion, although to muggles it is known as dye or bleach. One example of a wizard who uses this is Draco Malfoy, as is observed by his unnatural and stupid white-blonde hair that all the girls swoon over. Blonde little ferret. _

_One side-effect of Peroxide Potion is that it hurts like Merlin's beard on fire. My Uncle Stuart dyed his hair once and he swore the house down. Mom was really mad at him. The twins were delighted._

_Another side-effect is_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know we fight all the time, but that's the only way I know to get you to notice me. I'm sorry about everything I've ever said to hurt you, just know that I never meant it and every tear you wept I felt as well, in my bleeding heart. Merlin, that is so corny. Sorry. Even if you never talk to me ever again, not only will I completely flunk my NEWTS, but I will have lost one of my best friends, and more than that, the only girl I have ever loved.  
__I love you, Hermione Granger, and please keep barging in on my business, that is, if you want to.  
__  
All my love,  
__Ronald Weasley_

_P.s. This isn't really a bribe, but if you _do_ talk to me again, I'll give you material to blackmail Malfoy._

Perhaps he shouldn't have added that last part. Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly. The words were starting to make his head spin. Or maybe it was his handwriting. Either way, he was on the verge of tearing it up right then.

_No! _screamed the voice in his head. _Look at her eyes! Look at them! What would you give to see them looking back at you with all those wonderful things that you talked about?_

_You'll embarrass her and then she'll never talk to you again, _said another voice. Someday he would get around to naming them all. _Is that what you want? Everything is fine and dandy now; you're her best friend, face it, that's as close to her as you'll ever get._

_What have you got to lose, Ron? What?_ retorted the other voice.

_My sanity_, he thought dryly. That shut them up.

"Done! Finally!" Harry shoved his essay away from him, grinning madly as he leaned back and relaxed in his seat. "What about you, Ron?"

"Yeah, me too." Ron said quickly, doing likewise as Harry.

They both glanced expectantly at Hermione, Ron with a tad more trepidation than Harry. This was the part where she took their essays and mulled over them, marking out parts which they had to change, filling in others to ensure they would pass.

Hermione looked up briefly (not at Ron though) and, with a "Give it here, Harry." she was off, scribbling furiously. Ron liked watching her while she worked. She was so intent on it, like it was the single most important essay in the history of the world, like it could change history, even. Did she always throw herself so completely into everything she did?

"Not bad, Harry. You just need to add a bit more detail…"

Ron watched her lips moving without hearing her words. What would it be like to kiss them, he wondered—hang on, he was thinking waaay too far ahead. It was almost as freaky as Malfoy and his bathing suit.

Ron couldn't help but chuckle at the image. Hermione glared at him.

"Sorry, I shouldn't chortle in the library." He had no idea where that came from. Sweet Merlin, _chortle_? Harry couldn't resist snorting at Ron's word choice. Ron might have imagined it, but he thought he saw Hermione's lips twitch, just the tiniest amount.

"Oh, Ron." And before he could do anything, before he could even _blink_, the piece of parchment was in Hermione's hands and her eyes were darting across the page.

Oh, _bloody hell_.

Ron found himself in a state of quiet panic. Would she slap him? She might. She had slapped Malfoy. This was all Malfoy's fault! Stupid, stupid, stupid ferret who made him chortle. Chortle!

And then just as suddenly as it started, it was all over.

Hermione, eyes wide, finished scribbling on his essay and passed it back to him with naught a word to say. Ron stared at her, but her face was unreadable. He frowned, and then felt his ears heat up. He was done for. He knew it.

His eyes traveled, almost agonizingly slowly, down the page. The anticipation, the suspense, was too much. He would explode with the sheer agony of having to live with what she wrote. _I'm terribly sorry, Ron, s_he would write. _This might shock you, but I am secretly in love with Draco Malfoy and I do not appreciate you blackmailing him. Speaking of that, I have material to blackmail _you_ too. MUHAHAHAHA. _Okay, so maybe that was unlikely.

What she actually wrote was,

_Dear Ron (my, are we formal today),  
__  
Outstanding essay. Let's meet outside the library to discuss it further._

_Love,  
Hermione Granger_

P.s. Good try, Ron. It worked.

Ron whipped his head up so fast he thought his neck might crack. Merlin, she was smiling at him. Such a huge sense of relief flooded him that he thought he might faint. But that would be dumb (and anti-climatic), so he didn't.

"Harry, I left something in the dorm. I'm going to get it now. _Right now_." Hermione stood up.

"Me too," Ron said quickly. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Uh, okay." Harry shrugged, still pouring over his essay.

For the boy-who-lived, he sure could be oblivious sometimes.

Not that Ron was complaining.

Fin.

A/N: Okay, it really is truly finished now. Do review, I accept anything.


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